


The Final Goodbye

by Charlie_Harrison1806



Series: AU View of Shadows Trilogy [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Lestrade is killed on the job, M/M, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Harrison1806/pseuds/Charlie_Harrison1806
Summary: "To what do I owe the pleasure, brother mine?" Mycroft sassed and Sherlock took a deep breath."Mycroft," the simple way that Sherlock said his brother's name with no malice made the smug smile on Mycroft's face drop."What's happened, Sherlock?" Sherlock looked out the rain covered window to the little flat that he lived in before sighing."I'm going to St Bart's but Molly needs you to ID a dead body that's just come in," Sherlock said calmly, his voice wavering when he said dead body."And why is that, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked as he sat back down on his chair."Lestrade's dead," Sherlock said softly, able to hear Mycroft's breath hitch.***Based on DuchessCloverly's video. Echo|| Mycroft + Lestrade***





	1. Chapter 1

Lestrade lay on the ground with his heart beating in his ears, adrenalin pumping through his body and fear flowing through his veins. The culprit stood above him aiming a gun at Lestrade’s head and the last thing Lestrade did was swallow heavily before whispering to himself, as though talking to Mycroft.

“Sorry,”

The quiet street was filled with the echoing sound of the gunshot before emergency vehicles filled the streets and on the garden of one of the houses lay Lestrade’s body. A final tear falling from his eyes, eyes glazed over and looking at the darkening storm clouds above.

“Take his body to the morgue. He doesn’t deserve to be a sideshow,” Donavon said quietly to the paramedics as they headed over to Lestrade’s form. Slowly, rain began falling as the paramedics put Lestrade into a body bag and onto the stretcher, the rain getting heavier each moment that passed until the stretcher was safely inside the ambulance and being taken to St Bart’s hospital.

“Here is his phone,” one of the policemen said as they handed Donavon Lestrade’s phone, a text message on the screen.

_No, thank you. I will see you at 7 pm. I love you. – M_

Sally sighed as she pulled out her phone and called the one number she hoped she would never call. When the message bank came through, Sally swallowed her pride.

“Sherlock,” She began but her voice cracked. She took a deep breath and spoke the last two words before hanging up. “Lestrade’s dead,”

“Keep it in evidence,” Sally said feeling tears beginning to threaten to spill.

At St Bart’s, Molly walked over to the paramedics with a smile on her face until they opened the zip on the body bag. Molly looked at Lestrade with no emotion other than sorrow and pain.

“Thanks, guys,” Molly said softly as she signed the paperwork saying that she was the one doing the autopsy but the tears streaming down her face kept landing on the paperwork. After the paramedics left, Molly fell to the floor and began sobbing on the floor while she tried to get her phone out of her pocket.

She tried calling Sherlock but didn’t get any answer the three times she tried so she called John. On the third ring, John’s chirpy voice filled the speaker.

 _“Molly. How are you?”_ Molly felt regret at having to bring down his day but Sherlock needed to know so that someone could tell Mycroft.

“Where’s Sherlock?” Molly asked, her voice breaking every word.

 _“Molly? Are you okay? Sherlock’s here so I’ll put you on speaker,”_  John said comfortingly but the view of Lestrade on the gurney in front of her meant Molly couldn’t be comforted.

 _“Alright, you’re on speaker,”_ John said encouragingly. Molly took a deep breath and sniffled before talking.

“Lestrade’s dead,” Was all Molly could say before she began sobbing again, her phone dropping to the floor as she cried.

In Baker Street, Sherlock and John looked at the phone in John’s hand. Neither knowing what to do before Sherlock reached for his phone dialling his brother’s number and ignoring the numerous missed calls.

 _“To what do I owe the pleasure, brother mine?”_ Mycroft sassed and Sherlock took a deep breath.

“Mycroft,” the simple way that Sherlock said his brother’s name with no malice made the smug smile on Mycroft’s face drop.

 _“What’s happened, Sherlock?”_ Sherlock looked out the rain covered window to the little flat that he lived in before sighing.

“I’m going to St Bart’s but Molly needs you to ID a dead body that’s just come in,” Sherlock said calmly, his voice wavering when he said dead body.

 _“And why is that, Sherlock?”_ Mycroft asked as he sat back down on his chair.

“Lestrade's dead,” Sherlock said softly, able to hear Mycroft’s breath hitch.

 _“I’ll be there,”_ Mycroft agreed before hanging up the phone. Mycroft looked at the picture of Greg smiling on his desk before he got up and headed out of his office, waving Anthea off as he headed for the carpark below the building.


	2. Chapter 2

Mycroft walked into the mortuary after Sherlock to see Molly standing over a body, a white sheet covering them. Molly looked up and both Holmes boys could see the tears stains on her face and the red of her eyes. She sent Mycroft a sympathetic smile before grabbing the top of the sheet and pulling it back gently.

“Thank you, Miss Hooper,” Mycroft said unable to look at Greg for long before he could feel tears threatening to spill again. Mycroft turned away as Molly lay the sheet back over Greg, hiding him from view once again while Sherlock followed after his older brother.

Outside the morgue, Mycroft stood next to a window and looking down at the street below. In Mycroft’s mind, he could see Lestrade outside and walking to a car parked on the curb. As Sherlock stood beside his older brother, Mycroft saw Lestrade stop and look up at him. Snow fell slowly outside of the window while Sherlock and Mycroft stood side by side in quiet.

“Are you okay, Mycroft?” Sherlock asked tenderly, not wanting his brother to be alone.

“Not at present time. But I will be better,” Mycroft said giving Sherlock the cold shoulder before walking away. Sherlock sighed and turned back to the morgue missing his brother stop for a moment and look over his shoulder. Greg stood there looking at Mycroft expectantly but Mycroft ignored him and kept walking towards the exit.

“Did you want a lift, Sir?” Anthea questioned. A car had pulled up at some point while he was in the mortuary.

“No thank you, Anthea. Ensure that you cancel all of my prior meetings for tomorrow and the weekend. I will be having a few days for myself,” Mycroft ordered lazily. Anthea stopped typing on her phone and looked up at Mycroft for the first time in 3 years.

“Sir?” Mycroft glared at Anthea and she nodded before climbing into the car before it pulled away from the curb. Mycroft stopped where he was and breathed out, watching his breath dissipate in the cold outside air before he began walking to Mayfair, not caring about the hours he was wasting in the cold and the potential of him getting ill.

Mycroft began to feel sour as he watched couples smiling and laughing in the cold air and enjoying the snow while he was trying to avoid thinking about his silver-haired lover. He looked away from the couples as he walked past the coffee house where he and Greg had gone for their first date. He could see Greg sitting in the seat he had been in, coffee on the table in front of him while he waited for Mycroft.

Mycroft sighed and continued walking, ignoring everything and everyone that he passed as he walked home quickly. The wind began picking up, blowing the snow everywhere and making it harder for Mycroft to see as he reached the edge of Mayfair and could see the top of his house in the near distance but nothing more.

After finding his way into his own home, Mycroft walked into his living room and sat down heavily with a glass of scotch when he heard someone laugh. He looked over at the couch and saw Lestrade laying down and laughing lightly at Mycroft. Mycroft sighed and grabbed the newspaper next to him, opening it to the first page. Mycroft felt the sorrow ebbing away slowly before he saw a picture of Greg under one of the articles. Mycroft closed the paper and placed it back on the coffee table as he tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the memories of Lestrade all through his house.


End file.
